A dream for you is a dream for me
by Inkfire
Summary: As the Malfoys prepare for a new baby, Draco wonders what happens if it is a girl. Homework for the Hogwarts Online Forum.


**Hufflepuff homework on the Hogwarts Online Forum.  
Thanks to Kara for the awesome prompt.**

_**Title: A dream for you is a dream for me.  
Summary: As the Malfoys prepare for a new baby, Draco wonders what happens if it is a girl.  
Prompts: daughter, son, family, changed man. Ready. It's time.  
Length: one shot.  
Anything else: must have Astoria as his wife.**_

It is such a _big deal_ – honestly, the whole thing is getting out of hand.

Draco barely feels welcome in his own house anymore. Every second of every day, Sundays and holidays included – hell, her whole life could be considered a holiday, as far as he's concerned – from the second she wakes up to the very instant she falls asleep (even _in bed with him_), Astoria's mind is focused and fussing over one word.

_Baby-baby-baby. _

It is getting ridiculous. Getting the nursery ready, making sure that the bottles, nappies and such trivial things will be flawlessly provided – _hitting a few house-elves to get his anger out_ – finding _the_ perfect nanny, pure-blooded and well-mannered, affectionate yet dignified ("A pearl, Draco, I found a _pearl_!" Astoria chirps three times a week, to go back to her hunting two hours later), making the inscriptions for Hogwarts, listening to Narcissa's "so kind and _oh so competent_" advice... What has he forgotten? Surely he has forgotten something.

(_It's almost as if you didn't care for your family, Draco, _Astoria reproaches – it's normal, pregnant women_ are_ overly emotional and unreasonable.)

(_It's false. He's a changed man, he's grown up, he's ready._)

What has he_ forgotten_? Oh, right. The names.

(_Pick your favourites, Draco,_ Astoria says, rolling her eyes. _Honestly, it's not that hard._)

Naming an unborn creature, a stranger to him... Why, yes, he hardly does that everyday...

(_His own flesh and blood, God._)

_Get a grip,_ he orders himself. _Be good to Astoria, give out a good image, soothe your troubled mind and _name your son,_ dammit!_

He can't find anything faintly suitable though, for his little stranger. His Latin fails him, his mythology, his Astronomy as well (no star names. Stars are meant to fall) and refering to old books and looking up family trees is boring him to death.

_And what if what you're doing is useless?_ he wonders one day. _What if Astoria mothers a baby girl?_

At once, he shakes the thought off as absurd – it cannot be, for the Malfoys have always faultlessly conceived one male heir.

_Abraxas. Lucius. Draco. _

Snorting at his own foolishness, he goes back to his pointless research.

That night, he dreams of a baby girl, his grey eyes in Astoria's sweet face.

Then, although he goes on and pretend, although he still looks for boy names – _without any conviction_ – he has a daughter haunting his mind, all dazzling smiles and adorable babbling.

_Elaine,_ he thinks without thinking, and he goes with the flow of his overwhelming emotions.

His mother's middle name; when he hears her telling Astoria of her baby-boy experiences, a twinge of guilt pokes his chest.

But there's a hidden part of him that wants so badly to break tradition – there's a hidden part of him that doesn't give a damn about heirs.

One day though, as he is staring at genealogy books, willing to burn them to ashes and have his baby girl no matter what, he hears a soft hum behind him.

He turns, and here stands Astoria, beautiful and positively glowing with happiness with her huge belly and her eyes full of love.

_Such a love_ – he thinks of his mother, and smiles.

"I found it, I found it!" she says suddenly, beaming up at him.

He steps up to her – his precious little jewel, his tiny, delicious blonde doll with her green eyes and childish pout.

"The nurse again?" he asks, feigning interest – he just wants to take her in with his eyes right now, as he should all day long and so rarely thinks of doing.

"No, Draco, you moron!" she snaps, hitting him playfully. "The name!"

He stares at her blankly.

"Scorpius!" she squeals.

He stares at her as she spins around, laughing in happiness and glee, and he has to catch her to keep her from toppling.

_Scorpius. _

Late in the night he thinks, and his mind feels foggy, empty.

Elaine or Scorpius, love or tradition? There is something off now, something wrong in his reasoning – _ever since he saw Astoria's radiant face_ – but he cannot quite place it.

He gets up quietly, and goes downstairs to pace without disturbing Astoria's sleep.

He stares at pictures. His father. His mother as a young girl. Their wedding. Distant relatives.

Astoria.

He stares at her face for a long time, as if her mute little self on a photo, grinning and waving, could be more meaningful to him than the wife by whose side he sleeps.

Somehow, in her eyes, in his mother's, he finds parts of the answers he was longing for.

In the mirror, he spots a few more clues.

It's time to figure out the mystery on his own, he thinks as he climbs up the stairs again. It's time to grow up, to accept responsabilities.

(_if he is to be a bad father after all, boy or girl, it won't change anything_)

To love, and to build, and to stop denial.

(_freedom can't be found in breaking tradition. He has to find it in his own self, and _God it's hard)

"Sweet dreams, my dear," he whispers to a sleeping Astoria as he slides back into bed. "We'll fulfill them together."


End file.
